


First Impressions

by travels_in_time



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-10
Updated: 2010-10-10
Packaged: 2017-10-12 14:23:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/125788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/travels_in_time/pseuds/travels_in_time
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the immediate aftermath of the Canary Wharf attack, Ianto meets the man who has taken charge of the clean-up operation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> Written pre-S2 of Torchwood.

Ianto hadn't seen the man in the long coat come into the room, hadn't heard the man speaking to him. Ianto hadn't noticed him at all, in fact, until the man put a hand on his arm, at which point Ianto turned and punched out at him, hard and fast.

The man stepped backwards, catching his hand and blocking the blow. "Hey, take it easy. I'm here to help."

"Sorry," Ianto said automatically. "Didn't see you." He turned back to his task, shoving rubble aside.

"It's all right. I'm Captain Jack Harkness, by the way. Torchwood Three."

"Ianto Jones." Ianto didn't stop what he was doing, didn't look round.

"What's back there?" Harkness stepped up beside him, nodded at the mass of debris where the ceiling had fallen in. "On the maps it's just a storage room."

"It is." Ianto pulled at a fallen filing cabinet, grunting slightly. "A secure storage facility. Also an emergency lockdown site. Steel walls and locks everywhere. If anybody made it into this part of the building, this is where they'd head to."

Harkness moved swiftly to the other end of the filing cabinet and pulled also. Together they managed to drag it out of the way.

"There are relief crews all over the place," Harkness noted. "Ambulances too. Has anyone checked you out?"

Ianto straightened, looking at the man properly for the first time. "What?"

"You're bleeding, and you have a good-sized knot on your head. You ought to get somebody to look you over."

Ianto looked down at his hands. Harkness was right, they were bleeding from several cuts and scratches that he didn't remember receiving. He could feel other places on his body now that he'd stopped to think, dull aches, sharp pains. None of it seemed to matter, somehow; it was all far away.

He wiped his hands on his trousers, noticing for the first time the condition of his shirt; the coat and tie had been discarded long ago. He wondered if it was the shirt that was bothering Harkness. "I'm fine." He indicated the bloodstains. "Most of this isn't mine."

Somewhere in the back of his head, he wondered when that had started seeming like a perfectly reasonable thing to say.

"You still ought to be checked." Harkness was still watching him, blue eyes steady and evaluating. Not shocked, overwhelmed, exhausted, scared like the few other people Ianto had found alive so far.

He remembered, now, where he knew the name from. Harkness wasn't just from Torchwood Three, he was the director. It shouldn't have taken him so long to realize that. He'd have to pay more attention, or he was going to miss something important, something that might help him find her.

Harkness was still talking. "Why don't you go downstairs and find the command post? Get yourself something to eat, have somebody bandage you up. I'll keep working on this."

Ianto shook his head, starting on his task again. "There might be people in there. I can't leave them."

"Ianto." Harkness put his hand on Ianto's arm, made him turn and meet his eyes. "It's four in the morning. There are other people here to help now. You don't have to do it all yourself. You can take a break."

Ianto shook his hand off, glaring at him. "You weren't here. You didn't see them getting dragged off, you didn't hear them screaming--" he stopped, his voice choking off for a moment. "I'm not leaving."

Harkness held his gaze for a moment, then nodded. "All right." They both got to work then, hauling ceiling tiles out of the way, a fallen light fixture, the ever-present plastic sheeting. They didn't talk any more.

With both of them working, it didn't take long to clear the doorway. Ianto pressed the security override, hoping that the electronics were still working. The door clicked, but didn't open when he pulled on it.

"Somebody's in there," he said, hope rising. "They've bolted it from the inside." He pounded on the door. "Hello in there! If you can hear me, open the door!"

They waited a moment, then Harkness raised his voice also. "The Cybermen are gone! We're here to help you! Can you get to the door?"

After another moment, the bolts rattled, and a woman opened the door cautiously. She saw Ianto and threw open the door, bursting into tears and stumbling into his arms. "Oh, God, I was afraid nobody else had survived, I didn't know who would be coming for us..."

"It's all right, Marie," Ianto said gently. He was already looking past her, searching for one person in the dim emergency lighting. "Is Lisa with you?"

Marie stepped back, blinking up at him; he held onto her, willing her to give him the answer he wanted. Her eyes widened. "No. Ianto, I'm sorry. I haven't seen her since..."

He took a deep breath, and then another, releasing her when he realized that his fingers were digging into her arms. She rubbed at the marks he'd left, whispering again, "I'm so sorry, Ianto."

Harkness slid past them, into the room where the others were gathered around a man who was lying on the floor, his head in the lap of one of the women. "How many of you are there? Is everyone all right?"

"There're four of us here, besides Marie." The woman cradling the man's head looked up at him in eerie calm. "We're all right except for Tim. I think he's dead."

Harkness knelt beside them, feeling for a pulse at the man's wrist and neck, punching a few buttons on some sort of wristband that he was wearing. Finally he shook his head. "I'm sorry. He is dead." He moved the man's head gently onto the floor and reached a hand out to the woman, helping her stand up.

The others stood for a moment, uncertain. "We can't just leave him," one man said. "Should we carry him down?"

"I'll send a stretcher crew for him," Harkness said, tapping his earpiece. "The rest of you, go on downstairs and report in. There'll be people there to sort you out."

They nodded, back on firmer ground with orders to follow, filing out shakily. The man who had spoken stopped in the doorway--David, it was, from Accounting. "Ianto. Have you seen Anna?"

He forced himself to stop thinking about Lisa for a moment, to concentrate. "Anna." He summoned up her image in his mind. "She's all right. She was on the fourteenth floor; they barricaded themselves in the lab. The Cybermen had just broken in when they all started disappearing. Her arm was broken. I think they've taken her to hospital."

David sighed. "Thank God. What about Donald?"

He didn't even have to think for that one. "They took him. I'm sorry. I saw them--" he stopped short. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

David closed his eyes briefly. "I'll need to call his wife."

He opened his eyes, made his way unsteadily out the door, following the others.

Ianto took a deep breath and turned towards the door as well, his mind already on to the next possible place Lisa might be hiding, waiting for rescue. They were running out of safe spaces, he knew. But he couldn't let himself lose hope, not yet. Others had survived; he had to believe that Lisa would have as well.

"Where are you going?" That was Harkness, still there, still watching him.

"Eighth floor. There's another secure site there, like this one. I don't think anyone's checked it yet. They're all marked as storage closets on the maps."

"There seem to be a lot of places in this building that aren't marked on the maps."

He smiled briefly. "Ms. Hartman didn't trust anyone."

"But you know where everything is." Those blue eyes were still meeting his intently; Ianto felt as if he were being measured up somehow. "And you remember things. How many floors have you checked so far?"

"Eight," he said automatically. "Nine survivors, not counting me. Forty-three bodies, four of them not identifiable."

"Have you reported any of this to anyone?"

He shook his head numbly. "There wasn't anyone to report to."

"There is now," Harkness said gently. "I know you want to keep looking. Lisa, is it?"

The name stabbed into him. This man didn't know her, didn't know anything about her, had no right to even mention her. He didn't answer, and Harkness went on. "But if you don't rest soon, you're going to fall over. Go downstairs, get something to eat, coordinate with the search parties. Let them know where you've already checked so they're not wasting their time. The more organized we can get this search, the faster someone will find her. And it sounds like you know this place better than anyone else still around. You can give them some ideas where to start looking."

Ianto hated to admit it, but it made sense. He nodded finally, and Harkness put a hand on his shoulder, guiding him towards the stairs. "Good. Come with me."

His search had been so single-minded that he hadn't even been aware that there were other people in the building, but now that Harkness had mentioned them, he could hear people calling in the distance, muffled thumps coming from other floors. There was a crash, followed by swearing; Ianto turned towards the sound but was brought up short by Harkness' hand, still on his shoulder. "No. They can handle it. You keep going."

They made their way downstairs and out the front of the building, where noise assaulted them like a shock wave. Emergency vehicles were parked haphazardly around the building. People in uniform gathered in groups, exchanged information, broke apart and re-formed new groups.

Harkness led him towards a table where a small Asian woman had set up a workstation, typing rapidly into her laptop and speaking into her headset. She glanced up at them distractedly.

Harkness waited until she tapped the earpiece off, and then said, "Tosh, this is Ianto Jones. Ianto, Toshiko Sato. She's coordinating the information for the search parties. Can you tell her everywhere you've been so far? Tosh, Ianto knows this place inside and out, and he's found several of the employees. He should be able to help you quite a bit."

He disappeared, and Tosh smiled at Ianto sympathetically, indicating a folding chair beside the table. "Here, sit down. First of all, can you tell me the names of the people you've found?"

"Alive or dead?" Again, it was a question that shouldn't have sounded so normal.

She blinked, as if unsure what to say. "Either. If they're dead, tell me where they are so I can send someone to retrieve them."

He started listing names. Harkness came back eventually, carrying a plate of sandwiches and a steaming mug, which he placed on the table beside Ianto. "They're all out of tea; hope you don't mind coffee."

Ianto took a sip and grimaced. "I wouldn't mind coffee, but I don't think this qualifies."

Harkness grinned, a wide, friendly expression. "I did dump a bunch of sugar in it. I hear that's good for shock. But I don't think it was going to win any awards anyway." Despite himself, Ianto smiled back tentatively; the captain seemed much warmer suddenly, more approachable, less commanding.

"Jack!" Someone sounded irritated.

Harkness turned towards the sound, raising his voice. "What?"

"What's the protocol on letting these people back inside?" A dark-haired man came towards them, carrying a black bag and gesturing back to where a small knot of people was waiting patiently.

"Those are Torchwood employees?" Harkness asked.

The man nodded. "They want to go back inside and keep looking. Jack, it's dangerous in there, there are still parts that are collapsing--"

"If they're upright and making sense, let them go."

"But--"

Harkness cut him off again. "Owen. Let them go."

The man exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. But someone's going to get hurt." He looked at the building again and shook his head, as if realizing the absurdity of what he'd just said. "I'm pretty sure one of those guys has a concussion. He really shouldn't be wandering around loose."

"Send him to the hospital. The rest of them, treat them as best as you can here and then leave them alone. Tosh can assign them to search parties so none of them are on their own if anything happens." Harkness looked over at Ianto. "When you get through with Tosh, get with Owen, let him check you out. Then you can go back inside. All right?"

Ianto let out a deep breath. He'd been afraid that once Harkness had him out of the building, he'd make him stay out, go home, go to the hospital, whatever. It was a relief to realize that the captain understood. "Thank you, sir."

"Call me Jack." The captain smiled briefly at him before turning to a policeman who was trying to get his attention.

Ianto turned back to Tosh, who nodded at the sandwiches. "Eat up. And finish listing the secure spots. We'll try to hurry."

*********************************

He was sitting on the ground, leaning against a wall, when Captain Harkness found him again. "Ianto? Are you all right?"

He opened his eyes, blinking against the sunrise. "Yes, sir."

"I told you to call me Jack." The captain studied him. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"I wasn't sleeping." Ianto rubbed his eyes, then looked up. "I don't think I ever said thank you, sir. For helping me dig them out. Bringing me food and everything."

Harkness shrugged. "Part of the job." He sat down beside Ianto. "You were right, you know."

Ianto looked at him in surprise, and he continued. "When you said I wasn't here, I didn't know those people. But I have fought the Cybermen before. Well, a version of them, anyway. These seemed a bit different."

"So you're a survivor too," Ianto said, wondering if that accounted for his calm demeanor.

The captain grinned at that, but it wasn't the same open expression as before; it was grimmer somehow. "Yeah. I'm good at surviving." He looked over at Ianto. "What about you?"

"Apparently," Ianto said, bitterness creeping into his voice despite his best efforts.

Harkness studied him for a moment. "I'm sorry, I should have asked earlier. Did you find your friend?"

The lie came too easily. "No."

By now the word had spread; the converted Cybermen had disappeared too, and a large part of the Torchwood staff would never be found. In this case, no news was definitely not good news.

Harkness sighed. "I'm sorry, Ianto."

He nodded shortly, doing his best to keep all expression off his face. It was easier than it should have been; he felt hollow inside, as if he weren't quite real, as if nothing he did would matter.

The captain shifted slightly, watching the people still milling around the front entrance. "They're not done searching. Twenty-something people they've found alive so far. It's not over yet."

"Twenty-something people out of over eight hundred." Ianto didn't meet his eyes, didn't want his voice to come any closer to breaking than it already was.

Harkness placed a hand on his shoulder; startled, Ianto did look at him then. "You can't give up," he said earnestly. "You have to keep going. If she's still alive, she's counting on you."

He could almost feel the man's determination washing over him like a wave, lifting him up and carrying him...where? Determination that filled the hollow spot inside him, gave him something to hold on to.

Harkness didn't know what he was saying, but he was right. Lisa was counting on him. "You're right, sir. I won't give up."

"I told you, call me...never mind." Harkness looked up as someone Ianto didn't know approached, holding out a clipboard.

"Civilian casualty list, sir. We're going to have to sort these out with the local authorities."

The captain nodded, taking the clipboard. "I'll talk to them. Thank you." He scanned down the list as the woman walked away. "This is good, there's not many of them..."

His voice trailed away as he stared at the list.

Ianto looked over at him, caught by his sudden silence. "Someone you know, sir?" he ventured.

The captain didn't answer; his fists were clenched, and his eyes...Ianto looked away, not wanting to see the expression in his eyes, wondering if he'd looked the same way when Captain Harkness had found him.

Eventually Harkness took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Ianto, you said something?"

"The list, sir." Ianto was wishing he'd kept silent. "I'm sorry about your friend."

Harkness glanced back at the list, then away, looking off in the distance. "She might not be dead." He looked back at Ianto then, a half grin on his face. "Denial is a wonderful thing, isn't it? I'll have to find out where this information came from, see if there's a body--" he stopped then, brought up short by his own words. "Please let her just be gone with him," he whispered.

Ianto didn't understand him, had no idea what he was talking about, but he did gather one thing. Captain Harkness knew what it was like to lose someone, knew what it was like to hope desperately that they were still alive. Maybe, if Ianto told him, the captain could help him find a way to help Lisa. Maybe he would understand.

"Captain..."

Harkness looked up, met his eyes. "What is it?"

"I had to come outside for a while, to think. I wasn't sure what to do." He looked away. "I--I found..."

Harkness leaned his head back against the wall. "Don't tell me you're the one who found them. The ones who were--rebuilt."

"The ones who were still partly human." Ianto nodded.

"They weren't human," the captain contradicted. "They might have looked that way, but they weren't."

"They were asking for help, sir." Ianto didn't dare meet his eyes, although he felt the other man's gaze on his.

"I'm sorry, Ianto. You shouldn't have had to see that."

"What...what do we do about them?"

"There's nothing to be done. They didn't survive being taken off the conversion units."

Ianto flinched at the matter-of-fact tone. "You killed them?"

The captain's voice hardened. "Most of them were dead already. They never made it through the partial conversion process. The ones that did were in incredible pain. They weren't human anymore--their controlling impulses were all cyber-oriented--but no one deserves that kind of pain, even Cybermen."

Ianto dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. Harkness was wrong, he had to be wrong. It was Lisa who'd looked at him, pleading for help. It was still Lisa under the metal covering, he could see it in her eyes. And if he hadn't hidden her away before he'd notified Tosh, then Harkness would have unplugged her with as little regard for her life as he'd shown for the others.

He'd been wrong to think that Harkness might understand. The compassion he'd shown Ianto only went so far, evidently. Ianto swallowed, the feeling of emptiness returning. He'd have to manage on his own, then. Somehow.

"I'm sorry, Ianto." The captain's tone had softened. "I know they were your co-workers. Your friends. There was no way to save them, you have to understand that."

Ianto looked him in the eye, finally. "You said if they're alive, we couldn't give up hope. Sir."

"It's a little different in this case." His voice was still gentle, understanding; it would have been so easy to forget the hardness of only moments before.

Ianto kept his voice level. "I don't think it is, sir."

Harkness sighed. "One day, you might understand."

There was silence for a few moments, then he shifted, rising to his feet, looking at the list in his hand. "I have to get over there and sort out these casualties." He looked up as Ianto got up also, steadying himself on the wall. "I won't tell you to go home and get some sleep. I know you won't leave until they've finished searching the building. But after you do, look me up. The people who want to keep working for Torchwood will be temporarily reassigned until this place is rebuilt, and if you like, I could get you sent to Torchwood Three."

"Torchwood Three?" Ianto echoed, dumbfounded.

Harkness shrugged. "Thought you might want to come home for a while."

Ianto considered it. He'd have to go somewhere, after all. He'd been to Torchwood Three on a brief assignment, delivering a portable cryogenic storage unit that the director had requested, although Harkness hadn't been in the Hub at the time.

He thought about the huge underground facility, most of the lower levels crammed with artifacts, many of them labeled improperly or not at all, and some of the rooms standing empty. The assistant director had shown him around a bit, laughing at the disorganized state of things and his obvious shock. "We're not like London," she'd explained unnecessarily. "There aren't enough of us to keep track of everything, not when we're running around catching anything that decides to pop out of the Rift."

"That might work," he said slowly, a plan beginning to form in the back of his mind.

"It's not anywhere near as glamorous as Torchwood One," Harkness warned him. "You're just as likely to be emptying trash as you are to be categorizing alien artifacts." He thought about it. "In fact, more likely. New guy always gets dumped on the clean-up rota."

He shrugged. "Doesn't really matter, sir. It may be exactly what I need for a while."

Harkness nodded. "Keep me posted, then. When you find out for sure about your friend. If you're able to relocate, let me know and I'll get it set up for you."

"I appreciate it, sir." He thought again of the basements of the Hub, where no one ever bothered to go, and almost managed a smile. "More than you know."

Harkness grinned and held out his hand. "Until then, Ianto Jones," he said.

Ianto shook the offered hand, reminding himself once again that he couldn't trust this man, no matter how much he wanted to, no matter how friendly his smile was. "Thank you, sir."


End file.
